Unrequited
by Moondancing Millie
Summary: A modern day Shakespearean tale featuring the next generation of Mediator characters! Jock Romeo Slater didn't care for wallflower Juliet De Silva when she was alive. But now she's dead he can't get her out of his mind.
1. In the Beginning

**O.K, I have two goals this week. And one of them is to finally sort this fic out. I want to finish it, as well as rewrite the chapters so that they look at least semi-human. The amount of typos is infuriating - even AFTER I "revised" it. **

**Unrequited**

_Prologue_

_"Come out, Miss De Silva, its no use hiding. Anyway, we won't hurt you." There was a cackle. "Much."_

_Juliet gripped the curtains in front of her, so hard that her knuckles turned white. Something she didn't recognise was writhing through her - possibly fear, or excitement - adventures thrilled her to the bone._

_"Come on, Little Missy. Did you really think we wouldn't find you?"_

_She couldn't help it. Her breathing was getting louder. She was sure to be found._

_Why her? This question always seemed to pester her. If Father D was right - that God really was responsible for her 'gift', then he would have a lot of answering to do once they found her._

_A shiver trilled all the way up Juliet's spine. They were going to find her. It was own fault, really. For being a weak mediator. She should have followed her Mom's advice - kicked a little ass. But no, she had to be Daddy's girl._

_Surely there were worse mediators to be killed this year. Surely she wasn't the truly weakest mediator. The council had got it wrong. That was it, and the council were looking for her to tell her that she would no longer have to hide. The stupid overflow rule. Why did there have to be a limited amount of mediators anyway? It was so lame. Everyone knew that mediators could always need a bit of help._

_"It's not fair, I know, but if we get this done soon, it will all be over."_

_Juliet whimpered, her blood running cold. She didn't want to die, life was only just beginning. She'd started high school, the best years of her life. Supposedly._

_"Ah."_

_The curtain was pulled out of her grasp, and Juliet shrank against the window. Her big green eyes locked fearfully on the man before her._

_"Hey there," he said, the false smile he had plastered on his face not completely reaching his cool blue eyes. "I'm Paul; I work for the Mediator Council, established 2010. I think you know what's coming next."_

_Juliet pushed her thick black hair behind her ears and nodded. Paul drew something from his pocket._

_"Nombre de Dios!" Juliet whispered._

_"Hold still," said Paul._

_**Bang.**_

_"Well," he said, into his mouthpiece. "She's dead."_

_He turned to the frail body leaning against the window._

_"Tough luck, kid," he said. He walked away. "Job done, I guess. Until the next one's born."_

**Chapter One**

"I suppose you were listening, Mr Slater?"

The sound of Sister Margaret's high-pitched squawk brought me back to earth, and I picked up my pen, trying to look like I'd been concentrating. However, her resolved expression told me there was no use trying. I shook my head, dropping the pen again.

"Of course he wasn't," said Chanel Prescott, who leaned forward and draped her arms around my neck, before kissing my cheek. "Come on, Sister. He's _Romeo Slater_. He doesn't _need _to listen."

The rest of the class tittered, before turning back to their discussions about Winter Break.

Sister Margaret looked sceptical. "I suppose being our school's star player does have its benefits." She sighed. "I'll dismiss your distractions for today – but there's a goal you'll be scoring tonight with my name on it. Class dismissed."

There was no bell system at Junipero Serra – the classes were just dismissed on the hour, and novices in the breezeway ensured that we moved swiftly and silently to our next class. Chanel, however, had other ideas, who sidled up to me the minute I got out of the classroom and slipped her hand in mine.

"What's up?" she asked. "You've been in your own world all morning." I ran my free hand through my hair, yawning.

"I'm O.K," I said. "Just tired."

Chanel dropped my hand to fluff her hair, with an irritated expression on her face. "Well you'd better wake up. Coach will flip if you screw up this afternoon's game." I remained silent, knowing as well as she did that the school's undefeated record this season depended on me.

We passed a team of guys in white, examining a blood-splattered area behind the curtains next to the award cabinet. "Are they forensics?" I asked, scrutinizing. Chanel tossed a semi-concerned look in their direction before pulling a face.

"God," she said. "You'd think they'd clean that up already. I mean, some geek committed suicide – that's more than obvious. Why bother investigating?" She rubbed some gloss into her lips.

"I heard that she got murdered for a failing grade," interrupted Verity Mancuso, Chanel's best friend. Chanel looked scathingly at her before raising an eyebrow at me.

"You'll believe anything, stupid," she snapped, examining the contents of her bag before pulling out a huge hair brush to attend to her thick, honey-coloured curls as we walked. Verity looked slightly hurt at her friend's remark, before greeting me.

"Hey, Roms. Reading for the big game tomorrow?"

"Yeah." I sighed heavily. Chanel suddenly gasped and stopped dramatically, throwing out her arms so that we stopped to. "What?" I asked, in surprise.

"How could she kill herself _right there_?" she whispered, shaking her head. I frowned, suspicious of her uncharacteristic – and just a little belated – concern. "I mean, right next to our _cheerleading championship trophy. _What if she had gotten blood all over it?" I hung my head, knowing that I should have guessed Chanel wouldn't have been capable of something deeper than what shade of lip-gloss would match her Prom dress in three years time.

"Hm." I made a non-committal noise.

"Miss Prescott, Miss Mancuso. Mr Slater. I suggest to all of you that you move along to class." Before us stood the white-haired – and ever-so-slightly bearded – Sister Ernestine, who frowned at us all disapprovingly.

"Yes, Sister Ernestine," we chanted mindlessly.

"God," said Verity, once we were out of earshot. "I cannot believe that broad is still here. I mean, she was here with our _parents_. At least Father D. gave up the ghost years ago."

"I hear he still hangs with the De Silvas," replied Chanel. "You know, Mrs. De Silva spent all her time in the principal's office while she was in school – my Mom told me. They're probably part of some secret cult or something."

Verity snorted. "Probably," she agreed. "What do you think, Roms?"

"Er…" I began slowly. "I think I gotta get to Math."

Which I promptly did so, glad for an excuse to leave.

* * *

"Ro-me-o! Ro-me-o!"

Chanel and Verity joined the other cheerleaders and waved their pom-poms excitedly. Chanel slid me a seductive smile before I received a pass from Mark Ackerman. We were level in our game against RLS, and my brow was thick with sweat. My feet ached as I pounded up the pitch, kicking the soccer ball harder.

"Come on," urged Mark. "Shoot!"

I did, and the ball flew straight past the keeper to the back of the net. The whistle sounded, Chanel and Verity shrieking with it.

"Oh my God!" squealed Chanel, running on to the pitch and leaping into my arms. "We won! We won!" She thrust her lips onto mine before I had chance to answer.

The team crowded us, patting my back, muttering "Nice job, man," or "Play like that next time, and we'll win the state championships!" – but I wasn't really listening. I had pulled Chanel from me, and was recovering my breath.

"I think I'll take a shower," I said eventually, and Chanel watched me go, disappointed.

I turned on the shower, the drops of water hitting the tiled floor loudly. I peeled off my sodden brown uniform and added it to the sodden brown pile on the damp floor. I let the hot water run down my chest, relishing the heat that was caressing my scalp. Chanel, the game, homework – the amount of stress that was piled onto me at the moment was impossible. It was a miracle that I managed to drag myself out of bed and to school in the mornings.

I grabbed a towel and rubbed my face. I wrapped it around my waist and walked into the locker room, shaking my wet head.

I closed my eyes, roaring in anguish, before opening my eyes with a huge sigh.

That's when I first saw her, her big green eyes staring straight back at me.


	2. Juliet

**I never really realised how many typos were in this thing! And even in my Author's Notes! Argh!**

Chapter 2

"Argh!"

Our screams were in unison, and I took a few steps backwards, clutching my towel protectively.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I demanded. "Are you some kind of insane pervert?"

"I'm neither insane or perverted," she insisted, defensively. "I'm just... dead."

I laughed out loud. "Yeah," I said. "You're dead. And I'm George Washington."

"Hey there, George Washington," she replied, jokingly. "Because I'm well and truly dead."

"If you're so dead, how come I can see you?" I reached out and poked her shoulder. "And I can _touch_ you?"

"I guess you're a mediator," she replied, matter-of-fact-ly. "Funny, I wouldn't thought you were the type."

"You don't even know me!" I exclaimed. "So how can you say-"

"You're Romeo Slater," she stated, bored. "Captain of soccer team, property of Chanel Prescott?_ Everyone_ knows you."

"And I know everyone," I replied. "But I've never seen you."

"Maybe you were looking, but you weren't really seeing," she said sadly. "But I guess now I'm glowing you can see me clearer, huh?"

"_Glowing_?" I echoed. I looked to see that she was right. She had a bobbing golden aura around her body, outlining every single delicate curl on her head, every pink fingernail. "Oh, right."

"I'm a ghost," she said. "And you can see me - that makes you a mediator. Or a sensitive. But most likely a mediator."

"I-" I started, but she interrupted.

"Don't freak," she said. "There's loads of us - you - in fact, there's a whole dumb council, established 2010."

"Loads... council...dead...ghosts..." I shook my head. Maybe Mark had slipped something into my water bottle.

"OK, its a little weird," she admitted, twirling around in her ghostly-green dress. "I've just known it.. forever. My mom and dad are both mediators, so I've never known any different."

"You're a mediator?" I asked. "You see ghosts all the time?"

"Yeah," she replied. "It was a lot easier helping people when I wasn't dead though." She sniffed sadly. "I never thought I'd have to be mediated."

"And mediators do... what, exactly?" I asked. I couldn't help the questions.

"Help dead people," she stated simply. "Help them cross over... you know, to the other side. To move on. God knows where they end up. We just get them over there."

"And you see - saw - ghosts everyday, back when you were alive?"

"Yeah," she said. "I kinda miss it now, now they don't bother me. I don't have the special Mediator Energy for the ghosts to be drawn to. _You'll_ be bugged with them instead."

"But I've never mediated!" I cried. "I've never even seen a ghost before you!"

"First time for everything."

"Yo! Romeo! My big man! Nice goal!"

Mark Ackerman strode into the locker room - head-to-toe in mud - and walked straight through the girl in front of me. Let me tell you - _that was surreal._

"You'll be in Chanel's good books now," continued Mark, as if he hadn't walked straight through the girl I'd been talking to. Which, to be fair, he didn't know he had done... "Major make-out session tonight?"

The girl rolled her eyes, and muttered something underneath her breath.

My eyes darted to her. "What?" I asked.

Mark frowned. "You know, when you're in your basement and your folks think you're watching TV but instead you're totally-"

I cut him off. "I know," I said, my eyes still on the girl.

"So this is what the boys locker room is like," she said, turning around and gazing at the ceiling. "Wait till Abbey gets a load of this..." She trailed off sadly. She turned back to me.

"I'm going now," she said. "If all you do in the boys locker room is talk about orgys, then I am_ so_ out of here-"

"No!" I yelled.

"Woah, man." Mark backed away. "I'm sorry. I didn't know you'd turned all _Christian_ on me..."

"No," I muttered. "I mean-"

"Bye, Romeo," she said. "I'll be creeping - I mean checking - up on you again soon. Later."

"Bye," I murmured furiously, then stormed out of the locker room, leaving Mark a little more than confused.

* * *

"And the way you scored that final goal, was totally awesome," whispered Chanel breathlessly, kissing me enthusiastically. "It was amazing. And I was like... that's my man out there." She sat up, laying off the kisses. "You could so see the jealousy on Ver's face."

"Uh-huh," I said, and I pulled her down and kissed her again. Mark ended up right. Chanel and I were making out on the sofa in my living room. My dad was "Out of town with business". More likely getting wasted in Tijuana with his latest squeeze from the office.

"This is more like the Romeo I'm dating," she said. "Only interested in making out. God, where have you been all day?"

"Distracted," I said. "But I'm here now."

"Yeah, on your leather sofa," Chanel said irritably, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "Can we... maybe go upstairs?"

"OK," I sighed, and got up.

Going up the stairs, I said, "Hey, Chanel, do you know who that kid was who was killed in school?"

"No," she snorted. "Why should I care about some freak? Its bad enough I have to look at them in Math."

"Right," I said. "Never mind."

"I love your room!" Chanel squealed, and she waltzed into it excitedly. "Its just so much bigger than Verity's ... its totally my favourite place to hang out. And your bed-" She stretched lazily and seductively across it. "You know, I think its big enough for two."

"I bet it is," I said, grinning, and she pulled me down with her, putting her arms around my neck, and her legs around my waist.

But even though my lips were on hers, my mind was elsewhere.

Possibly with the ghost girl I had met today.


	3. The Council

**And now Chapter Three... I don't know why I'm doing this. Maybe today is just an obsessive-compulsive day.**

Chapter 3

"Romeo? Romeo!" I was being shaken. "Wake up! Time for school!"

"Mom," I muttered. "Lay - _off_!"

"Nope, sorry," my Mom said. She really sounded sorry. _Not_. "Be in the kitchen in ten minutes, you hear?"

"I hear," I groaned, and I rolled out of bed.

"Why am I here, anyway?" I asked, walking into the kitchen half-dazed, and ten minutes later than she had asked me to be there.

"Because I don't like you being all alone in your dad's big house when he's away," she said, handing me a banana. "And you're doing God-knows-what with that Chanel Prescott...I just feel better when you're under supervision, OK?"

"Mom, I'm sixteen, not six," I persisted. "I'm old enough to-"

"I know, I know, make your own decisions." My mom sighed. "I just don't think that Chanel is good for you. Why can't you be deeply in love with a nice girl?"

"Because that wouldn't get me voted Prom King," I muttered underneath my breath. I took a bite out of my banana. "What have you got against Chanel, anyway?"

"She just seems... oh, I don't know... the stereo-typical bad girl," my mom replied, sipping her black coffee. "Don't come crying to me if she runs away with a college guy on a motorbike. Thats what her mom did, after all."

"Her mom?" I echoed. "You mean Kelly?"

"Yep." My mom nodded wearily. "But I shouldn't be telling you these things... off to school with you, right this instant!"

I grinned and took my lunch off my mom, who had a little twinkle in her dark blue eyes. My mom's a good egg, really. She just gets a kick out of dishing the dirt on her peers.

"Be home by 4!" she yelled as I stepped through the door. "No hanging about!"

"Yeah yeah," I muttered, and pulled the door closed.

"Hey," said a voice behind me. "So you have... two houses?"

I spun around, smiling. "Hey," I said. "I was wondering when you'd come back. Its been a week, you know."

"I've had stuff to do," she replied. A big flirtatious grin spread out over her pink lips, showing her pearly teeth. "And so have you," she added. "This is... your mom's pad?"

"Yeah, my parents are divorced," I said. "What kind of stuff have you been up to?" I asked. "Its not like you can do major socialising. You're dead." I didn't notice the sting of my blunt words until it was too late.

The smile dropped from her mouth. "Right," she said, turning to go.

"No!" I said, suddenly, gripping her wrist. "I-"

I stopped talking, and dropped her hand. "You're crying."

"You've never cried before?" she snapped. "Oh yeah, I forgot. I'm speaking to Mr Macho."

"No," I said, straddling my bike. "I'm sorry."

The girl rolled her eyes. "Apology accepted," she said. "But only for now, because my company is limited."

I looked at the floor sheepishly. "I really am sorry."

The girl shook her hair. "Whatever, Romeo."

"Whatever, Romeo," I mimicked, and she mock-punched me. "I'm going to school," I said. "Wanna come with?"

"No, thanks," she said. "I don't think I'm ready to face that, yet."

"OK," I said, winding up the pedal to my bike. "But you should come by after school, tell me more about this Mediator thingy."

She smiled. "Sure. Bye, Romeo."

"Bye -" I started. "Hey, what's your name?"

She laughed. Her chuckle was cheerful on the surface, but somehow it had an undertone of something else. "I'm Juliet," she said. Then she disappeared. It _so _figured.

* * *

"So this Mediator Council," I said, stretched across my bed. "Established, as you say, in 2010. But so what? What do they do?"

"Well," said Juliet, pushing an ebony curl behind her ear. "Back when it was first established, the Council was there to offer support... for those who were having trouble helping others cross over. They held meetings every Tuesday evening, because that was the only time the founder - Father Dominic - could get away from his hectic duties as headmaster, and priest."

"Father Dominic!" I exclaimed, but Juliet silenced me.

"Everybody was happier once the Mediator Council was established. Those living in Europe and Asia could watch our evenings via satellite, and the hall in which the meetings were held were always filled with foreigners who'd travelled just for one meeting. Mediators were growing, you see, because many were meeting and falling in love. But that turned out to be the problem."

"What happened?" I asked, curiously.

"I don't exactly know," she said. "I was only one and half at the time. Mom just told me this story when I was a little older - it was like my lullaby, I guess. Anyway, Mom always said that one day, scientists found us. They stumbled across one of our meetings, and were immediately intruiged by our gifts. They wanted to conduct experiments on our DNA, and we had to let them - or they'd spill our secrets to the press."

"And..."

"They found one day, that our energy was too unbalanced. Too much mediator energy was affecting the natural course of the environment. They said we were polluting the earth. We had to be minimized. And quickly. Of course, Father Dominic immediately offered to sacrifice himself, but we wouldn't let him. A gang of mediators came up with a 'fair solution' to the problem. Every year, they'd find a mediator that wasn't doing their job as well as... others."

"And... kill them? That's barbaric!" I cried. "That's awful. How could they-"

"We had no other choice," continued Juliet sadly. "And I guess, I was never strong enough."

"Juliet, I'm so sorry," I whispered, and I pulled her into a hug. She seemed a little surprised, as was I. I'd never really been a huggy person. I just felt so guilty, for some reason...

"Its OK," she said, into my neck. "It can't be fought. Its just now there's even more work for mediators to do - so many more people who just weren't ready to die."

I pulled away awkwardly. "Sorry," I muttered. "Its OK," she giggled. "But you're weird, Romeo. I'd always thought you'd be so cool."

"You thought I was cool?" I repeated. "Kept that one to yourself."

Juliet put her head into her hand, blushing. "Well, you were Romeo Slater. Complete jerk, of course, but still the coolest guy in school. Even Abbey thought so."

"Abbey?" I asked.

"My best friend," Juliet explained. "McTavish. She hasn't taken my death well at all. I feel so helpless when I see her. I can't even comfort her or anything."

"I could try talking to her," I said, sitting up.

"Couldn't resist to start mediating, could you?" Juliet laughed, and she scooted to sit beside me on my bed. "I guess it is kinda fun, when you get started."

"Anything to help you, Juliet," I said, then I blushed. "I mean-"

"No, its OK," whispered Juliet, putting a finger to my lips. "Don't say anything else."


	4. Caught Out

**I'm not sure how long I had this chapter posted up for previously, but none of you silly people noticed I had Romeo's mother feeding him medication for menstrual cramps instead of a headache! I only noticed when I wikipedia-ed Midol.**

Chapter 4

After a fairly awkward incident that evening - my Mom walked in on me talking to apparently, no-one - Juliet dematerialised, and I went online. It took me awhile to shift my mom from my room, who insisted on feeling my forehead and force-feeding me paracetamol, but eventually I managed to IM.

**_SoccerRulz: Hey Chanel._**

**_GlamourGurl: Hey Roms. What have u been up to after school?_**

**_SoccerRulz: Uh.. nothing._**

**_GlamourGurl: God, ur boring. I've been shopping and bought at least 4 pairs of shoes I don't need!_**

**_SoccerRulz: Why?_**

**_GlamorGurl: Verity. She was practically kissing my feet in all of them. So I had to buy them, if my feet looked that great._**

**_SoccerRulz: I see._**

**_SoccerRulz: Hey, you know the girl who was murdered -_**

**_GlamourGurl: OMG. Ur still on about that?_**

**_SoccerRulz: It was a tradegy, C!_**

**_GlamourGurl: So the De Silva kid died. Life goes on for the rest of us!_**

It was Juliet De Silva?

**_SoccerRulz: Chanel, we have to talk._**

**_GlamourGurl: Huh?_**

I took a deep breath before typing the next bit.

**_SoccerRulz: I want to break up._**

**_GlamourGurl: Ha ha! Very funny. Listen, I don't have time for your jokes, I'm -_**

**_SoccerRulz: C, I'm serious._**

**_GlamourGurl: You can't be. I'm Chanel Prescott. You're Romeo Slater. We're like Seth and Summer - only you're way hotter. I don't have time to listen 2 this. I'll see you tomorrow._**

And she signed off. I sighed. She obviously didn't understand. I shook my head, and signed off. My work, at least for now, was done.

Then I realised. I had to see her.

Not Chanel. I'd had about three years too much of Chanel Prescott. No, I needed to see Juliet. Juliet De Silva.

* * *

"Hey, Mrs De Silva."

"Hello, Romeo."

In front of me stood a graceful woman of late-thirties - maybe early-forties. Her brown hair curled just underneath her prominent chin, and her sarcastic hazel eyes skimmed me sceptically.

"What do you want?" she asked abruptly.

"Uh, can I come in?" I asked wistfully.

"Why?" Mrs D.S. stopped me on the doorstep. I noticed her cheeks were slightly pink and damp. "Because frankly, Mr Slater, I have no idea why you're here."

I thought fast. "Uh," I said. "I... need help! I need help on my Bio assignment from Mr De Silva. Can I see him?"

"He's out. But I guess you can wait here." Mrs De Silva walked away from the door and left it open for me to waltz in. I made sure she was settled in the lounge watching TV again, before I crept up the stairs. I was met at the top of the stairs by a ... an animal. I think.

Its eyes were sickly yellow, and its matted fur was knotted. It even had a half-chewed off ear - disgusting. It was definitely not the kind of thing I'd think of finding in the De Silva mansion.

"Ignore him," said a sweet, quiet voice in front of me. I looked up - there was Juliet, in a pastel blue sweater set. Her long dark curls were plaited to one side.

"Juliet," I whispered.

"Wanna see my old room?" she asked. "Come on, I'll give you a tour." She tugged my hand. I followed her mindlessly, into a big, ice-blue room. She closed the door behind us.

"Isn't it beautiful?" she asked, sinking into her white leather sofa. "Its so sad that I can't sleep in here anymore."

"Sleeping is over-rated," I said, nodding. "You're not missing much, don't worry."

Juliet smiled. "Thanks, Romeo," she said. "I think that if it was only my parents I could talk to, I'd go mad."

I held out my hand to pull her up from the sofa. She clasped her cold fingers around mine, and I pulled her up. She lost her balance, and grasped my arms to steady herself. She looked up. "Wow," she said. "You're stronger than I thought you were."

I grinned. "Soccer has its benefits," I replied quietly. A silence followed, but it wasn't awkward. We just looked at each other, still in the accidental embrace.

"Uh," said Juliet, shaking her head suddenly, and letting go. "Sorry for-"

I put a hand on her back and pushed her to meet my lips quickly, cutting off her speech. She shut up immediately, and put her arms around my neck. "Romeo," she said, pulling away for a second. "What about Chanel?"

"I couldn't be with her a second longer," was my reply, and Juliet gave into the kiss once more. We fell onto the sofa still in one another's arms... kissing gently. I didn't care that I'd only known Juliet a fortnight, or that she was dead. All that mattered was that I had a twinge in my gut every time she said my name...

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" somebody growled from the doorway. Juliet broke away and hopped up immediately. "Daddy!" she cried. "Um.. this is-"

"I know who this is," Mr De Silva spat at me, as he dragged Juliet behind him. "Susannah, get in here!"

Mrs De Silva appeared behind her husband and daughter. "You let this kid in?" he asked her.

"He wanted help on his homework," she excused herself. "What's he doing in Juliet's room?" She turned to me. "Paying your respects?"

"I can see her, Mrs De SIlva," I replied quietly. "She told me I was a mediator."

"I can see that, by the way you had her on the sofa!" Jesse yelled, and Mrs De Silva and Juliet each backed away. "You'll stay away, got it Slater?"

"Yes sir," I nodded.

"Daddy!" cried Juliet. "Romeo's not like you think! He's sensitive and caring and-"

"-A Slater," finished Jesse. "Get out, boy."

I slunk past him, and tossed a sympathetic glance at Juliet, who was weeping silently.

"If you even speak to that boy again, Juliet, I'll exorcise you, got it?"

"Jesse!" barked Mrs De Silva.

"He's not good for her," remarked Mr De Silva. "He's a Slater, and I'll not have her hurt like you were, querida."

I waved a mournful goodbye to Juliet, and then made my way downstairs before Jesse threw me down the majestic staircase. I had to figure out a way to see Juliet without her father knowing. I couldn't possibly go without.


	5. Abbey McTavish

**This chapter contains mild sex references.**

Chapter Five

"Another miss? God, Slater, you suck."

I whirled around from the goal-posts to see my ex-girlfriend Chanel dressed head-to-toe in designer attire. Her perfectly-styled blonde hair was protected from the wind by several hundred layers of hairspray. I scowled, but she made her way over anyway, careful to keep her ballet pumps grass-free.

"So, baby," she said, pouting. stroking my arm gently. I pulled away.

"Oh for God's sake," she cried. "You're still mad at me for what I said about the De Silva chick? Roms, she's dead. As in, off the planet. Why would you care? You knocked her flying a few times, anyway, back when she was alive."

I hated the way she referred to me back when I was a jerk. Because it hurt more than anything - to know I'd caused Juliet pain, to make her cry.

Chanel threw her arms around my neck and kissed me deeply. I stood there, frozen to the spot. I waited until she had finished, before refraining from wiping my mouth, despite the urge to. She walked two fingers up my chest seductively, and purred in my ear. "My place is empty, if you wanna...you know. Continue our discussion."

"Slut," snorted a voice in my other ear. "I mean, you guys aren't officially going out anymore, and the invite's still open for casual sex."

"Juliet!" I whispered, causing Chanel to take a step backwards and go "What?!"

"But hey," Juliet continued, ignoring me. "Look who I'm talking to, Mr Rebound."

"Juliet," I said, fiercely. "What happened the other night was real, you know."

"Um, honey?" whimpered Chanel. "Its Chanel, remember? And hello, I'm over here?" She waved a hair to demonstrate, but I was too focused on Juliet.

Juliet laughed. "You know when she calls you 'honey' and 'baby'?" I nodded. "That isn't affection. That's just making sure she doesn't mix up your name with the rest of the football team, who she is also inviting back to her empty house." I rolled my eyes.

"Juliet." I waited.

She rolled her own eyes, and smiled sadly. I pulled her closer by her hand, and laid a soft kiss on her lips. What a mistake.

* * *

"And, ew, he was like, sticking his tongue into like, thin air. It was totally gross. Like I hadn't already got the hint we were over? God, I broke up with him weeks ago, but he just kept begging me, and then he did that-" 

Chanel's babbling was all I heard all day. Of course, the fact that I'd been making out with the air reached even morning announcements by the next day, thanks to Chanel. But I'd completed forgotten she was there.

"Hey dude, does the air have a friend?" asked Mark Ackerman, bounding up excitedly, and pulling my head into a noogie. "Its all over school, you and your hot date. Did Chanel fancy a threesome or something?"

"Dude," I said patiently. "I did not make out with the air."

That was true, at least from my perspective.

"Whatever you say, brother," he replied. "Just hand me her number when you're through. Sounds like hot stuff to me, man."

And off he went again, chuckling to himself.

I scowled, scratching the back of my neck, when something caught my eye. It was the blonde spikey hair of Abbey McTavish, who was emptying her books into her locker. Dressed in loud orange, and decorated with black accessories and nail polish, Abbey looked like she was AWOL from a toddler's game of dress-up. But I strode up to her anyway.

"Hey, Abbey-"

But before I could say anything else, I got the middle finger. She strode off in her mules, without another word.

"Yeah, she'll do that," said Juliet, by my side. "We kinda hated you, you know."

"Nice to know," I said, before turning around and opening my own locker. "Hey, you wanna go somewhere with me tonight?"

"Oh yeah, a table for two at the diner would look real good," Juliet replied amusedly.

"I thought maybe a movie at my place," I said. "But then, there's your Dad."

"My dad? Please, he's a softie. Besides, he doesn't have to know. I'll just pretend I've gone to look at my grave, and want to be alone. That always works."

"You visit your own grave?" I asked, horrified. "I don't want to know anything else, you disturbed little girl."

"Hey look, Slater's talking to his girlfriend again!" called Chanel from across the hallway. "She must make some kinda company!"

"I'll take that as my cue," replied Juliet, wary of all the people staring at us - well, me - and blew me a kiss. Then she dematerialized.

I shut my locker furiously in all the silence. Well people started talking again, I turned around, to see the violently-dressed Abbey McTavish in my path.

"Has hell frozen over?" she demanded. "Is _that _why you're suddenly speaking to me?"

"Um," I said, a little intimidated. "No."

"Then what do you want?"

Before I could answer, Martin Redfawn cried out: "Hey, looks like the air's got some competition from the nerd!"

I saw a muscle in Abbey's jaw leap, and she turned to yell back. "He wasn't talking to the air," she said. "He had his cell phone underneath his jacket. He was talking to me. "We're secretly dating."

Wait, WHAT?

She turned back to me, and kissed me, fully on the mouth. She said loudly, "See you later," then walked away.

Chanel just looked at me, confused. I knew how she felt. But then, a huge grin swept over my face, and I decided that Abbey McTavish was going to be very useful in the near future.

And besides, three different kisses in two days?

As Mark would say, SCORE.


	6. Family

Chapter 6 

As soon as the bell rang in Physics, I hastily packed away my stuff and ran full speed to the front of the school. I just hoped I had got there early enough. Soon, I knew.

"Hey, Abbey!" I yelled, as she came plodding along, arms crossed and a deadly scowl plastered across her face.

She stopped when she reached me, and I saw Martin Redfawn out of the corner of my eye. I bent down to plant a quick kiss on Abbey's cheek, then smartened. Abbey rubbed her cheek, disgusted.

"I can't believe I suggested this," said Abbey, mostly to herself.

"I can't believe it either," I replied. "It was kinda random, Abs."

"Its Abbey," she corrected me. "And what the hell are you still doing here, anyway. I covered for you, and now you can piss off-"

"Believe it or not," I said, starting to get a little angry. "I didn't just come up to you to make out - that was your idea. I have something to talk to you about."

"No, I will not vote for you as class president," she replied, bored. I caught up with her, and stood in front of her to stop her.

"Shut up!" I yelled, and the surrounding students all turned around to look at us. I dragged Abbey further down the street, but kept my voice to a whisper. "It's about Juliet."

Abbey took a large step backwards and glared. "I won't have you talk about her in front of me," she spat. "Save your gossip for your Homecoming Bitch girlfriend."

"She said you guys hated me," I said, underneath my breath, but Abbey caught it anyways.

"What the hell would you know about Juliet?" she asked furiously. "You just pushed her against the wall on your way to soccer practice or make-out club with Malibu Barbie. We hated you, and you didn't even know we existed. That was the natural order. So now you wanna tell me some shit you think you know?"

"I do know this," I said calmly and quietly. "Because I talk to her everyday."

"What?" Abbey asked calmly in return. But her politeness didn't stay long. "She's dead, you bastard. She hasn't ever spoken to you - not when she's dead, and not when she was alive."

"I knew she'd take some time to come around," said a voice in my ear. Juliet slipped her fingers into mine. "Tell her I'm here, right now."

I echoed her words to Abbey, and Abbey's face went grey. She fought back tears as she cried, "Liar!"

"Its true," I said, squeezing Juliet's hand sadly. "And she misses you, she said."

"Shut up," Abbey growled. "Shut. The hell. Up."

"No," I replied passionately. "You have to listen. I'm not going to take this from you anymore. I'm not some jerk whose brain is in his pants. I know that I come across that way, but its different now I have Juliet-"

"Why would she come to you?" she asked. "Why you, and not me?"

"I don't know," I said. "But what I do know is that you need me. And she needs you to listen."

"Tell her that I love her," whispered Juliet. "Tell her, te amo, mi amiga."

"That was our thing," gasped Abbey, once I had repeated it. "She... her dad was Spanish, and he taught us all this stuff. But that was our saying. We started that the day we'd promised we'd be friends forever and fight off the tirones - that's jerks, as in you guys at school. How did you-"

"She's here," I said again. "By my side. And - what? - your biology assignment is due tomorrow, apparently."

Abbey laughed, and I was stunned to see large tears drooling down her cheeks. "Hey," I said, watching the ghost of Juliet put her shoulder around her friend. "Don't cry." Abbey shuddered.

"I could feel something on my shoulder," she said suddenly. "Like an arm-"

"She can feel me!" cried Juliet.

"That's her," I replied. "And she doesn't want you to cry either."

Abbey immediately reached to wipe her damp cheeks. "OK, Jules," she said. "I'll stop crying." And she side-stepped me, and started walking again. Then she stopped.

"Hey, Romeo," she continued, and looked past me. "And, er, Juliet, if you're still around. You wanna come to dinner at my place?"

"Sure," I replied. "Let me just make a call."

* * *

Dinner at the McTavish's was a blur. I had to duck several times from peas being sling-shot my way more than once. I have a feeling that Abbey's twin brothers Michael and Rhys have in it for me. 

Her mom was nice, though. She declared I may only call her Cee Cee and if I attempted a "Yes, Mrs McTavish" I would go without food. Mr McTavish asked me about my dad. I said he wasn't around much, and then he muttered something about doing any available supermodel, until Cee Cee kicked him underneath the table and shot me a smile.

"I haven't seen you about since you and Abbey were in Middle School!" Cee Cee exclaimed. "And you've grown up to be so good-looking, just like your dad."

"Mom!" whispered Abbey underneath her breath.

"Thanks, Mrs - I mean, Cee Cee," I said, recovering just in time, but a little embarassed.

"Its nice that you and Abbey are friends. I heard you were friendly with that Gucci girl-"

"Chanel," Abbey corrected her.

"Her middle name is Gucci," I volunteered, and everybody laughed. It was nice, being part of a real family. Dad was never home for dinner, and Mom wasn't much of a cook. Takeout was her speciality.

Afterwards, I showed Michael and Rhys who was boss at Coolboarder, and Abbey showed me her art. Some pictures were a little morbid, like of Juliet looking at her own grave - what a coincedence - but I let it slide because of her grief. At least now she could let me help her through it.

At eleven, I wandered home, declining Mr McTavish's offer of a ride home. I liked to feel the sea air on my way down Scenic Drive. And it was even better with Juliet's hand in mine. She'd disappeared during my visit to Abbey's, but she'd reappeared on the way home. We reached my house, and I leant in to kiss her soft lips.

"Do you wanna come in?" I asked, resting my forehead against hers.

"And do what? Ghosty virgin here, remember."

I opened my eyes and frowned. "No, that's not what I meant. I... I...we don't have to do that. Its actually better if we don't, especially if we get an unplanned visitor...um. We could just sleep?"

"I could watch you sleep, you mean," Juliet replied. "Ghosts don't sleep."

I groaned. "Aw, man, I'm really messing up. Watch me sleep? That would just be totally lame and -"

"I like lame," she said, smiling, and draping her arms around my neck. "It sounds perfect."

And as I pulled her inside by her hand, and felt something in the pit of my heart that hadn't quite been there before. Maybe it was recognition of the days when Mom and Dad were still together. Or maybe it was longing for those memories. But whatever it was, it meant that I knew I was lucky. I had family now - a slightly less conventional one, maybe, - of a dead girl, her best friend and her relatives - but I was welcome somewhere at last.

I was happy as we settled into bed with a DVD in the player. I clung to Juliet tightly, but too tight, as, I reminded myself as the opening credits started to roll, she would still be here in the morning.


	7. Twister

**A/N Hey, sorry for the delay. I could have sworn I put a Chapter Seven up here, but alas, no, I found in my computer files unfinished instead - so, sorry. Read and review!**

**Millie**

Chapter Seven

Abbey and I decided to stage a 'break-up' as soon as possible.

"Its getting too weird," she declared, as we walked into school. "I mean, you and Juliet are together - and I can't pretend that's not happening."

"I know what you mean," I replied, as we reached my locker. "Juliet doesn't care - but its kind of like disrespectful to her memory, you know?"

"You have Chemistry next," Abbey said, taking my History textbook out of my hand and putting it straight back in my locker. "And yes. So let's get our story straight. I met another guy, OK?"

"Um, no," I answered, with a hint of duh. "Do you have any idea what that would do to my reputation? Dumped by a nerd? There was another - two - girls. That's way better."

"How about I decided you had your head up your ass?" asked Abbey, as we walked to Science. "Two girls? Ew."

"OK," I said, eventually. "Let think of Plan B."

* * *

"A mutual decision?" echoed Mark Ackerman. "Dude, that's bullshit, and you know it." 

"Its true," I insisted. "She couldn't handle my appeal to other girls, and I couldn't handle her love for homework." OK, so Abbey didn't have to know about that one.

"So what about Chanel?" asked Mark, ignoring our math teacher, and her drabble about fractions. "You guys back on? I'm not sure if she'll have you, though."

"Maybe..." I trailed off, my mind full of Juliet. She looked so pure this morning when I had woken up. She was so good, so honest, so understanding... it was fitting she had been wearing white.

She was on the chair by the TV, eagerly following Bugs and friends across the screen...

"Dude?" Mark Ackerman waved a hand across my face. "Dude? Class is over."

"Oh." I put away my books, and met Abbey outside her class.

"I think you should stop meeting me," she said, loudly. "Seeing as we're over?"

I grinned, and played along. "But can't we still be friends, Abbey?" I asked. "We got along so well, you know?"

"I thought you hated my love of homework?" Abbey whispered, lowering her voice, then slapping my arm.

"Ow! How did you find out about that one so quick?"

"From my new boyfriend," she replied, raising her voice again so the hallway could hear. "News travels fast, Slater, you jerk. I hate homework, but now the whole student body thinks I'm a total geek."

"Aren't you?" I asked her solemnly, but she had wandered off.

"Wait!" I called, running after her. "Aren't I invited over tonight?"

"We're playing Parcheesi," she answered, not looking at me. "Is that too nerdy for you?"

"I love Parcheesi!" I cried enthusiastically, and ignored the expressions from my fellow students. "Can I give you a ride?"

"Seeing as my house is supplying you with food, yes," was Abbey's reply, and she hopped into my Mercedes. "Home, Jeeves."

Cee Cee was pleased to see me back so soon, and gave me double helpings of spaghetti, which I demolished with passion. After dinner, I followed Abbey up to her room, which took me aback.

The walls were painted white, but were awash with several murals. One was of her dog, one was of her two brothers playing leap frog, and one was of her and Juliet. There were hundreds more, dotted around the four walls.

"They're beautful," I gasped. "Did you do those yourself?"

Abbey nodded, sheepishly, and pointed to one near her bed. It was early days, but I could nearly see Abbey's short and spiky hair come to life on one head, and my moptop on another. Of course, we were eating - donuts from a box, by the looks of things, whilst indulging in a game of Coolboarder on her brother's game console. Abbey, of course, was winning.

"Sexist pig," I said outloud, and was met by Abbey's raised eyebrows. I cleared my throat. "I just mean that how is it fair that you're winning Coolboarder?" I pointed to another drawing. "Or that you got the bigger bowl of ice cream?"

Abbey shrugged her shoulders. "Its my room," she justified. "Draw your own murals, Slater."

I grumbled as Abbey slipped a movie into the DVD player. "Aw man," I moaned. "Another chick-flick? I'm gonna have to do some major burping to bump up my manliness."

"Burp away," suggested Abbey, and she moved several feet away from me. I sat slumped at the foot of Abbey's bed and sulked throughout the whole opening credits.

Halfway through the movie, Cee Cee brought in a bowl of popcorn, which we happily munched. Abbey shooed her mom away in time for the climax of the movie.

"No!" I cried, eyes glued to the screen. "Why can't they just see that they're meant for each other?"

Abbey chewed her popcorn and looked at me pityfully. "Hey," she whispered. "Its a rom-com. They will realise it, they will kiss in the rain, and they will live happily ever after."

I looked crestfallen. "Thanks," I said. "Ruin the whole movie for me, why don't you?"

"It was my pleasure." She reached up and turned the TV off. "Now you know what happens, what are we going to do?"

I spotted a brightly coloured box sticking out of her wardrobe. "Hey," I said. "Why don't we play Twister?"

We had to go into Abbey's brother's bedroom to open up the Twister mat - Abbey's room, being the box bedroom, was too small - and we forced Rhys to spin the board for us. We ended up in a twist and in a fit of giggles, until Rhys declared he wanted some water.

"Stay right there," he said, walking out of the room. "Don't move - not even an inch. I'll be right back."

Of course, as soon as he was downstairs, we collapsed onto each other hissing and spitting with laughter. Once I had removed my foot from behind Abbey's ear, and she had dislodged her arm from my ankle we sat, crossed-legged beside each other on the plastic sheet.

"Its been really great having a best friend again," began Abbey, breaking the pleasant silence slowly. "I think I'm finally feeling better - you know? And I have you to thank for it."

She reached over to give me a hug, which I happily reciprocated, giving her an extra squeeze. It was nice to have somebody who wasn't concerned completely in their appearance, or their athletic prowess. And maybe the fact that Abbey was living helped too, I don't know.

She released me, relunctantly, and we just sat there, staring into each other's eyes. I was beginning to feel a little awkward - Abbey's violet eyes could only interest me for a few seconds at a time - and I was ready to get up and play Twister again. But - and this was a really big but - Abbey had other ideas.

Before I knew it, she had gotten nearer, and laid a soft, and very nervous kiss on my lips. It was so short, I couldn't remember if it had really happened, or if I'd imagined it. My vacant expression was enough to horrify Abbey though, and she stood up immediately.

"Oh my God," she breathed, and began pacing around the room. "I am so sorry. I have no idea why I just did that. I mean, it was completely inappropriate, and we're just friends, and oh my God, I'm so sorry-"

"Its OK," I replied, quickly, standing up, too. "Its just... I gotta go. Huge Biology assignment due in tomorrow."

"We don't have Biology tomorrow," said Abbey, confusedly. "Its Saturday tomorrow."

My mouth dropped in horror. How could I have forgotten it was a weekend?

"My mom." I tried again. "Real sick. Vomit everywhere. I.. gotta go. Bye, Abbey."

Abbey let me go without a fuss, the embarrassment in the air was too intense for either of us. I passed Rhys on my way down the stairs ("Hey, dude, where're ya going?") and pulled on my sneakers without a word to Cee Cee or Adam or Michael. I had to go home.

Running into my room, I called for Juliet. Ghosts, generally, don't come when they're called, like dogs do, but Juliet always seemed to answer my pleas. But this time, she didn't come.

This time, I was met by nothingness.

This time, I knew something was wrong.


	8. Revelations

**A/N Thanks to all those who reviewed previous chapters! I have this fic on track now, promise. Just review - somehow, that makes me like to write faster... hint hint! **

**Millie**

Chapter Eight

"Juliet!" I yelled, frantically begging for her to return to me. "Juliet! Where are you?"

"She's gone," said a cold voice in my ear that I almost didn't recognise. It was my father, Paul. My father who was meant to be in New York for another three days, was here, informing me that my (dead) girlfriend was gone. Was I in Bizarro World?

"What?" I spat. My heavily tanned father almost filled the doorway, and he was grinning maliciously. I never cared much for my Dad, he always insisted he was a ladies' man, as if I didn't get the hint that even when he was around - which was rare - he always brought a woman around. But he treated all girls like dirt. I knew that much from my mother.

"You heard me," Dad repeated. "She's gone."

"And how the hell would you know that?" I asked him. "Do you even know who Juliet is?"

"Of course," he replied. "Juliet is your dead girlfriend, who has begged you to console her best friend, the McTavish girl. So you have been spending time with her as well as Juliet, only to find both girls have a romantic interest in you." He winked. "That's my boy."

"No, Dad!" I cried. "I hate being your boy. Do you realise how much pressure that has put on my social life? Oh, you're Paul Slater's son. You must be really cool...we're gonna make you soccer captain and give you a cheerleader girlfriend."

"Roms, what the hell-"

"Where is she?" I demanded, angrily, leaning forwards to shake my father violently. Dad took a step back, re-adjusting his collar.

"Geez, Romeo, calm down. Sit down."

"Tell me where-"

"Sit down," he ordered me. "And I will tell you."

"So when were you going to tell me I was a mediator?" I asked, after the ten minutes of "You're A Mediator, But Don't Let It Be A Drag" speech. "After I had fallen in love with Juliet and already gotten myself into a mess? As in, now?"

"You were in love with the De Silva kid?" echoed Dad, looking taken aback. "Ouch."

I kicked my chair backwards and grabbed my Dad's shirt with two hands, bringing my face close to his - close enough for him to feel my hot breath on his nose. I was deadly serious about this, and I needed him to see that.

"Where. Is. She?" I hissed, and Dad threw his head back and laughed. I could have punched him.

"I'll tell you where she is, Romeo," he snarled. "But for God's sake, pull yourself together."

* * *

"Gone?" repeated Abbey, chewing her cookie, worriedly. "As in, permanently?" 

"My dad said its kind of like a limbo," I explained. I'd come clean to Abbey after I'd escaped my dad, but I was still a little shaky. It made me feel like vomiting when I imagined Juliet in her current place. "Between life and death, you know?"

Abbey offered me the plate of cookies, but I declined, feeling a fresh level of barf rise in my throat. "You mean like purgatory?" she asked me, extending an arm around me, concernedly. I pulled a face.

"Purgatory?"

"Yeah, didn't your Mom tell you about it?" continued Abbey, looking surprised. I forgot that Cee Cee and Adam were strict Catholics - they had been at Father Serra's when Sister Ernestine was there, after all. My mom had plenty of stories about her.

"I guess she mentioned it in passing," I replied, casually. "I'm not really religious."

"If she's in Purgatory, then she'll be moving on soon," Abbey said, putting her head on my shoulder, sadly. "There's no way to stop it, I guess."

I sat up, and a streak of imagination hit me as a shiver ran down my spine. "My Dad would know," I said, and I got to my feet. "We have to get to him, before it's too late-"

"But, Romeo..." Abbey laid a firm hand on my shoulder, and held me to the floor. "We need to talk about earlier..."

I shook her off. "It's fine," I dismissed her immediately. "I gotta go, Abs, I'll see you later-"

"Romeo, wait!" Abbey cried, but he was already running down the stairs and out of the door. Abbey huffed.

"Boys!" she screamed, furiously.

* * *

"It's too late," my father told me, but I refused to believe him. 

"Why?" I asked. "Why is it too late? You're not telling me anything, but I need to know!"

"You kissed Abbey, yes?" he checked, and I nodded, exasperatedly. "Well, then. She's moved on. Abbey is obviously getting over Juliet's death, and that was Juliet's wish, wasn't it?" I nodded again. "If her business is finished, there's no reason for her to stick around."

"What about me?" I demanded, pacing irritably. "Am I not worth sticking around for?"

Dad shrugged. I roared, furiously. "How could I be so stupid?" I cried, and was horrified to find tears running down my cheeks. I was crying! And in front of my Dad!

"Wait," he said, reluctantly patting my shoulder. "There could be one way to get her back." I looked up, sniffing.

"Tell me," I whispered, and Dad sighed, sitting down in a chair and setting down his beer.

"OK then," he said. "But there's something else I need to tell you first. It's about Juliet. And me."


	9. Time For the Truth

**A/N Yah, shortish chapter, but I hope it has a satisfying end. He he. If you read my other stories, then the A/Ns have said this too - I'm back at school now so my updates will be kind of far apart (though could they get any more spaced out?) but I will try my hardest to get this fic finished soon.**

Chapter Nine

A cold shiver ran down my back. My father knew about Juliet, and here he was about to tell me something about her that I possibly did not know.

"I don't want to hear it," I said aloud, facing my father fiercely. "I love Juliet, and that's all I want to know."

"Do you love Juliet more than your own father, Romeo?" he asked, bluntly. I blinked. Once. Twice.

"You mean how you so obviously care about me?" I retorted. "You haven't spent time with me since the day I was born."

"Would you love me if I told you how she died?" Dad continued smoothly, as if I hadn't spoken. "If I gave you every last detail, down to how the blood from the gunshot wound trickled down her face long after her pulse stopped strumming?"

"Shut up!" I yelled, and I kicked the chair aside. My father only smirked. "You don't know shit about Juliet. You just think you can trick me into believing that you're a good person or whatever you're trying to make me think. But it's not going to work."

"Do you know about the Mediator Council, Romeo?"

Romeo gasped at the question. All the years Paul had known about being a Mediator, and he hadn't bothered to share his knowledge with his own son. It had to be a girl to tell him, to bring him out of the dark. Paul smiled maliciously.

"I'll take that as a yes." Paul's eyes glinted.

"Juliet was killed because of the unbalanced energy," I said slowly. "Because the Mediators were experimented on, and the weaker ones had to go to keep the energy balanced." Paul clapped loudly and patronizingly.

"Well. Done." He crossed his arms. "Do I hear kindergarten much?"

"Well I might be a little more up to speed if my father had clued me in," I said, spitefully. "Instead of letting me figure it out in my own sweet time."

"Juliet died because she knew what she was - therefore agreeing to do her duties," explained Paul. "When she turned out to be crap at her duties, she was killed. What is so hard to figure out?"

"Why they couldn't kill people like you," I replied, with a cold glare. "People who get a kick out of murder." I spat in his face.

"I killed her, Romeo," my Dad said, with a domineering smile. "I shot your beloved Juliet, because she was a useless piece of crap. I was told to kill her, and I killed her." I was suddenly filled with a rage that consumed my whole body, making my fists shake as they curled, and making my heart beat seven times faster than it should. I picked up my chair from behind me, and threw it at my father, hitting him in the face with a leg, and marring his tanned face with a shallow red circular cut.

"You - asshole," I spat, accompanying each syllable with a blow to his head. "You killed her. You killed her - when it should be you who died!" I hit him again, and he made no attempt to fight me off, and just stood there getting bloodied, and jeering.

"Hit me all you want, Romeo," Paul said, shrugging. "It's not going to bring her back."

"I'll kill you!" I cried, shoving him against the wall and hitting him hard in the face and heard a tear of nasal cartilage. A stream of steady blood poured down his nose and onto his lips. His tongue darted out like a snake's to catch the residue.

"Go ahead," Paul said, sarcastically. "_That'll _bring her back."

"You said she was gone," I whispered, shaking his shoulders. "You said I couldn't get her back anyway."

"There is just one idea," Paul said, thoughtfully. "But it requires a lot of thinking. Sorry about that, Romeo. Guess she's gone forever."

I gave him one last satisfying thump, and stepped away, breathing hard, still furious. "I will do it!" I roared. "Tell me goddammit, or I will beat the crap out of you-"

"O.K, O.K." Paul held up his hands for a surrender. "I'll tell you. But you have to be careful not to change anything."

"Change anything?" I echoed. "What do you mean?"

"Listen!" he scolded, and he held out a silver chain, with a small diamante "J" hanging from it. He placed it in my hands.

"What's this for?" I asked him. He gestured for me to close my eyes.

"It's hers," he told me. I closed my fingers over the cold metal, and could almost feel a pulse coming from it. This was hers. It touched her skin. Her cool, soft skin.

"I want you to listen very carefully, Romeo," Paul said, and I did. "Don't do anything stupid."

"I won't. What's going on?"

"What's going on?" Paul repeated. "What's going on, is that you're going back in time. To the night where Juliet died."


	10. Saving Her

**A/N Yes, it really is an update! Sorry I haven't updated this in a while, but some of my more popular fics have been higher up the priority list. But I found this earlier, and fancied writing. I hope you enjoy it - this was definitely a cool one to write.**

Chapter Ten

**_"I want you to listen very carefully, Romeo," Paul said, and I did. "Don't do anything stupid."_**

**_"I won't. What's going on?"_**

**_"What's going on?" Paul repeated. "What's going on, is that you're going back in time. To the night where Juliet died."_**

I shook with nervous laughter as my father's words sunk in. This was it - Paul Slater had finally cracked. I closed my fingers over Juliet's necklace and threw a punch to his jaw, causing him to reel backwards with shock. He held his jaw, massaging the skin with an innocent expression.

"What the hell was that for?" he demanded. My chest was rising and falling with anger.

"You're making stupid jokes whilst I'm here _grieving_!" I cried, throwing myself backwards against the wall and holding back tears. It wouldn't do any good for my dad to see me crying. "I mean, I know you've never been one for fatherly behaviour, Dad, but geez..."

Paul's face was deadly serious. "I'm not making stupid jokes, kid," he said gravely. "You think I'd joke about something like this? I played around with this crap when I was your age and it nearly killed me, and I nearly killed the girl I loved. Do you want to get your precious Juliet back or not?"

Only one part of my scolding had hit me. "The girl you loved?" I repeated. "That would be Mom...right?" To my surprise, Paul's head shook. "Then who was it?" My father looked up with flashing eyes.

"That's irrevelant," he dismissed quickly. "Time is running out. Do you want to save Juliet?" Suddenly, I was determined.

"Yes." No other answer had ever crossed my mind. "Just tell me what to do." Paul looked down at the necklace I was holding. I lifted it up to the light, and watched the diamante jewels sparkle.

"You hold on very tightly to that," he informed me. "And then you follow me."

* * *

"The Mission Academy?" I asked, incredulously. "Dad, are you serious? It's after school hours!" 

"Shut up," Paul snapped, coldly. He slid a key into the lock of the main entrance (God knows where he found the key. I decided I wouldn't question it right now), and the door swinged open with a satisfying creak. I looked into the dark school doubtfully. My father pushed in front of me, and I pursued.

"My Player of the Year medal," I mused, as we passed the awards cabinet. Paul nodded, and stopped. Suddenly, a snippet of Chanel's gossip came back to me.

**_We passed a team of guys in white, examining a blood-splattered area behind the curtains next to the award cabinet. "Are they forensics?"_**

**_"Yeah," said Chanel, rubbing gloss into her lips. "I heard some geek got murdered because she got a failing grade."_**

"This is where Juliet died," I whispered. I snapped my head in Paul's direction. "This is where you killed her." His face was solemn.

"Yes," he said quietly. "This is where your journey begins." I raised an eyebrow.

"You're not coming with me?" I asked. He shook his head, and told me I needed to go alone. I gazed down at the necklace I had kept clasped tightly in my hand. "What do I do with this now?"

"Keep it," Paul advised me. "Now I want you to think of this place a couple of months ago. Dark, like it is now. All the lights off. But there's a girl running down the corridor, running for her life." I winced as a vision of a frightened Juliet whizzed through my mind. Paul checked his watch. "You'll be a little early, I guess, but maybe that's best..." He knelt down before me, and clung to my jacket. I felt him slip something into the pocket of my jacket. I watched, bewildered. "Romeo," he said. "Will you promise me something?"

"Maybe," I replied. "Depends on whether its legal or not." A faint smile played on his lips.

"I want you to do anything you have to so that Juliet stays alive," he said. "Anything. Will you do that?" I nodded, not really understanding. Tears filled my father's eyes. "And I want you to know that I do love you, Roms. You're my son, of course I love you. Maybe I haven't been the best father..." He trailed of miserably. "But I do love you." I crouched down to his level.

"I love you too, Dad," I answered. "Thankyou for doing this." I straightened. "Well, I guess I'll see you on the other side." He didn't reply. I thought furiously of the place he had told me to, of Juliet running through the halls...

I opened my eyes, breathing hard. The school was no different; my father had gone. I turned around and examined the cabinet for the latest cheerleading medal. I couldn't find last week's. Which meant only one thing.

I'd done it.

My heart suddenly began pumping fast. Juliet was out there somewhere, still alive. But Paul was on his way to kill her.

I thought hurriedly of my father's whereabouts on that night. It had been a Monday, which would mean he would be holding the weekly poker night at his bachelor pad. Maybe that was a good place to start. I sprinted out of the school and a couple more blocks down the road, unsure of how much time I had. Paul could have passed me in the darkness, and could be already in the school, pointing his gun at Juliet's head...

But then I spotted his car, on his driveway, and knew I was safe. Paul never went anywhere on foot; always in his shiny Mercedes Benz. My running became faster, and I crouched in a shrub as I waited for him to leave his house.

I didn't have to wait long. He emerged within minutes, calling and jeering to his poker-playing friends. He waved them off, one by one, before walking briskly to his car. A voice stopped him before he got in - a voice that made both him and me jump.

"Are you aware that Romeo's parent-teacher conference is next week?" My mom stood at the end of the driveway, with her arms crossed. I sunk lower in the bush.

"Jesus Christ, Lisa, you scared me to death." Paul did appear shaken. But that could have been anticipation of the task he was about to carry out. He had a hand over his heart for emphasis.

"I wish," my mom said, acidly. "Sadly, you're still here living and breathing."

"You're just sour because I divorced you before you could divorce me," Paul spat. I rolled my eyes and tried to move steathily out of the bush. This was so typical of a Mom-Dad bicker. I could probably recite it word-for-word.

"No, I'm just sour because you never stopped loving Susannah Simon," my mother countered. Or maybe I couldn't recite their arguement. This was a new development. Wasn't Susannah Simon Juliet's mom?

I decided not to hang around. I couldn't risk it. Paul could climb into his sports car at any second and speed away to the school, and I'd have no chance of saving Juliet. I snuck away out of the shrubs and into the dark shadow of the house. No-one had spotted me.

I made a break for it, my shaking feet pounding the pavement hard. I still had Juliet's necklace in my hand...what was I going to do with it now?

Before I had chance to answer that question, I collided with something and knocked it to the ground. I whirled around in surprise to see a shaken Juliet on the floor. I gasped. The _real _Juliet. The alive one. My eyes nearly popped out of my head.

"I'm so sorry..." she whispered nervously. I offered my hand to her wordlessly, too taken-aback by her presence. She stared at my fingers as if I was offering her five swords. "Are - are you sure?"

"Yes," I replied, laughingly. "I won't bite, promise."

"But you're Romeo Slater," she said, taking my hand anyway. She stared at the hand that was still holding hers. "Why aren't you rushing off to disinfect yourself?" I frowned.

"I'm not like that." I was offended. She considered this for a second, before spotting her necklace in my hand.

"That's mine!" she cried, and reached for it. I surrendered it, but then realised that she was already wearing one. I pointed, and she clutched her chest confusedly. "Oh." She flushed pink with embarrassment. "Oops." She dropped the chain back into my hand. "Sorry."

"It's...fine..." I was still a little dazed. Juliet jumped as if she had suddenly remembered a dentist appointment, and made to run off again. I, however, seized her arm. "It's O.K," I assured her. She shook her head, distressed.

"It's not," she wailed. "I have to go, someone's looking for me..."

"The Mediator Council," I answered, simply. "They're coming to kill you." She gazed at me in astonishment.

"You're...you're..." She didn't seem to be able to finish her sentence. I nodded, and her eyes grew big. "You have to let me go - they'll kill you!"

"Let them try," I scoffed. "I won't let any harm come to you." She looked down at the hand still closed around her arm and sighed, terrified.

"I'm not sure..." She trailed off, then gasped. "It's him!"

I spun around to see my father's Mercedes Benz crawling down the road, his headlights scanning the road. "Quick!" I hissed, giving Juliet a quick push into the nearest hedge, but it was too late. Paul had seen her, and he was out of his car.

"Romeo?" His low, menacing voice made me shiver. "What are you doing with the De Silva child?"

"What are you doing coming to kill her?" I demanded. "You love her mother!" Paul flinched, but didn't hesitate to pull the gun from his pocket.

"Move out of the way, Romeo," he commanded, raising the gun at Juliet. I moved in front of her, shielding her from any bullets. Paul only smirked. "Stupid boy," he growled. "Get out of the way. I have business to attend to."

"Business." I spat at the word. "That's a load of baloney, Dad."

"Move out of the way," my father repeated. "Or I'll kill you." His earlier words to me came rushing back.

**_"I want you to do anything you have to so that Juliet stays alive," he said. "Anything. Will you do that?" I nodded, not really understanding. Tears filled my father's eyes. "And I want you to know that I do love you, Roms. You're my son, of course I love you. Maybe I haven't been the best father..." He trailed of miserably. "But I do love you."_**

With a pang of grief, I finally realised what he meant. I felt in my pocket for the thing he had inserted there earlier, to find a knife there, lying in the interior. My fingers closed over it, whilst still in the pocket. I also realised why he had had tears in his eyes.

I turned my head over my shoulder to whisper to Juliet. "Run," I advised her, loosening the grip I had on her arm, only to tighten it again. "I love you, Juliet." She blinked back in bewilderment, and I realised that my declaration had been pointless. "Run," I repeated, and I released her. Paul's eyes followed her irately, before he made to chase after her. I, however, was faster.

"Oh no you don't," I hissed, before pulling the knife out my pocket and plunging it straight into his chest.


	11. Consequences

**I guess I'll be leaving you with another cliffhanger. Sorry about that, but my original draft of this chapter moved things too fast. Thanks to everyone who reviewed last chapter - I understand that this may not be up to the standards of my newer writing, but I appreciate everyone who still reads it. This chapter is for _kiki390 _who asked me over-so-nicely for a new chap. Enjoy, Laura (yes, I read your profile hehe).**

Chapter Eleven

Paul clutched at his chest, stricken. The whites of his eyes seemed to be even brighter as he eyed me in shock. He began making a choking noise, and he sank to the floor still jerking. I rolled him over, tears springing to my eyes.

"Dad, no!" I became hysterical. "Dad, please, no, I'm so sorry..." My voice trailed away as Paul started coughing up blood. My hands were covered in the red liquid as I prised the knife from his chest and started doing CPR. My mind disconnected from my body as I worked in panic.

"I'm so sorry..." I gasped, sobbing into his jacket. "Why did you tell me to do this?" I demanded, seizing fistfuls of his shirt and shaking him. "You told me to kill you - you told me! You said to do anything to save Juliet - you said anything!" I rubbed a hand furiously on my forehead, before checking for a pulse. There was one, but it was faint.

"Come on Dad, hold on." I reached for his hand and squeezed it tight. I felt with my other hand in my jacket for my cell frantically, to remember suddenly that it was on my desk, back at home. Back in real time. "Call 911!" I screamed, desperately. "Call 911!"

"Romeo?" My mother's voice echoed down the street, and I turned to see her running towards me. I slid the bloodied knife into my pocket again. "Oh my God, Romeo, what happened?"

"D - D - D..." I couldn't force the words out. Instead, I threw myself off the ground and pointed to my father's lifeless body. "D..." My mom knelt swiftly on the floor and attended to him, pushing down on his chest and feeling for a heartbeat.

"Call 911!" she shrieked, to any neighbours. "Romeo, call 911!" I showed her my empty pockets, but she didn't appear to see me. "CALL 911!"

"I've called an ambulance," came a calm voice from behind me. There stood the frail father, a mobile phone in hand. Father Dominic offered his arm to me, which I took mindlessly. "Romeo, do you need to sit down?" His cool blue eyes stared back at me, and my heart began pumping. It was like he knew what I had done, though he supported my weak frame. "It's alright, Romeo, an ambulance is on its way..."

"He's been stabbed," I warbled, terrified, to Father Dom. "Stabbed in the - stabbed in the heart, right here..." I pressed a hand over my own throbbing heart. "And he started coughing blood and it was red and it went all over my hands..." I showed Father D my hands, for emphasis. I felt inane and childlike, but I couldn't control it. Father D nodded concernedly, lowering me gently to the floor.

"You need to sit, Romeo," he assured. "Sit down, put your head between your knees and breathe. An ambulance will be here..." Sirens sounded in the distance - police and ambulances. I jerked at the sound, but Father D pressed down on my shoulder. "Stay there, Romeo, everything will be fine."

"You don't understand," I blurted, beginning to shake. "You don't-"

"I've lost a pulse!" My mother cried. "There's - there's no pulse, and I've felt everywhere-"

"Move out of the way, out of the way," called the paramedics, as they rushed forwards with a stretcher and medical equipment. "We have a stab wound here, near the heart, no pulse..." The voices blended into one another, like some strange montage of a film. I couldn't focus on any one thing, the only thing I could hear was the _boom-boom-boom_ of my heartbeat rushing through my ears. I felt Father D's hand over mine, and his voice in my ear.

"I think now would be a good time to go home, Romeo," he whispered. "Think of home, now, there's a good boy. Don't forget, you'll have a nasty headache once you get there..." I whirled around to face him.

"You don't understand," I repeated. "I-"

"I know," he said gently. "And God forgives you for the sin you have committed." He gestured towards the crowd surrounding my father, and the shouts of despair. "Go now, to the girl you love; the life you have saved..."

"But-"

"_Go_."

I cast one last look at my father, hysteria bubbling in my throat. Father D gave me an encouraging nod, and I closed my eyes. I thought of home, of my warm bed, of my mother ordering Chinese take-out...

"He's flatlined...get him into the ambulance! Move out of the way!"

The scene dissolved, and a felt myself falling through time.

_Bump._

* * *

I landed with force onto my bed, just as my mother opened the door to my room, carrying a tray of hot soup. She looked tired, and sad - there were dark circles under her eyes, and her hair wasn't brushed. She set down the tray on my bed, and gave me a sad smile. I was shaking - I shoved my hands under the duvet to hide them. My mom reached forwards to graze my cheek with a soft finger. 

"Hey, Romeo," she said, attempting to be cheerful. "Are you O.K this morning?"

"Dad..." I managed to choke out. My mom's almost-happy expression dropped immediately, and her eyes filled up. "He's...?"

"Romeo, it was months ago," she replied, firmly, as if she was trying to convince herself. "Months ago. We're going to face that fact soon that he's..." She trailed off, unable to voice the word.

"Dead," I whispered, suddenly realising. I had killed my own father; I had broken my own mother's heart. "Mom, I'm so sorry."

She looked up in surprise, and pulled me in for a hug. "Oh Romeo, it's not your fault. You know, the police are beginning to suspect that it was a suicide. No weapon was found with his body, was it?" I shook my head, gently. My heart pounded as I lied. "Well, if he wanted to leave us, so be it. We can survive without us?"

"Did you still love him, Mom?" I covered her hand with mine, and squeezed. A glistening tear slid down her cheek.

Something materialised beside me. I jumped, though I really shouldn't have expected it. My father sat next to me, sandwiching me between my two parents. I rested my head on his shoulder, breathing sadly. He wrapped an arm around me silently.

"I guess I still did," my mother replied. Paul looked up, and stretched to hold her hand. She shivered, as if she had felt something cold, and yanked her hand away. She couldn't see or feel him. After all, she wasn't a mediator.

"She's misses you," I muttered sideways to my father. "And I'm going to miss you. I'm so sorry, Dad, I should never have..."

"You did it because I told you to," Paul answered. "I told you to kill me, and you did. You did as you were told, for once." He smiled. "I'm proud of you, Romeo. You wanted more than anything to save Juliet, and I offered you a solution. I forgive you for killing me - I've killed more than I can even count. You kept the earth balanced - removing it of its weakest mediator."

"You're not a weak mediator," I argued. "But neither was Juliet."

"_Is_ Juliet," he corrected me. I straightened in confusion. "She's alive now, remember?" My heart flipped. My mother clung to my hand.

"What's wrong, Romeo?" she asked. "Are you O.K?"

"I need to talk a walk," I told her, my skin hot. All was happening a little too fast. I needed time to absorb it, time to breathe. "I'll be back soon."

"Romeo-" My mom called out, but I waved her off. "Romeo, come back!"

"I'll be back soon," I replied, grabbing a jacket. "I need some air." My father followed me, unsuprisingly. We walked in silence until the end of the road, before he laid a hand on my shoulder sternly.

"I want you to look after your mother," he commanded me firmly. "She's the only one you have now."

"I have Juliet," I disputed. Paul shook his head.

"Tread carefully," he warned me. "She's a sensitive girl - with protective parents. And she won't have known the love you two shared when she was a ghost. As far as she knows, she was never a ghost." I nodded, slowly.

"I'll do whatever I have to get her in my arms," I said, determinedly. "I love her."

"I know you do. That's why I don't want you to lose her."

"I won't ever lose her," I whispered. "I'll just keep fighting and fighting."

"Time starts now," he warned me, and I frowned in confusion.

"What?" I asked, but he had started to dematerialize. I reached out, only to find fistfuls of air. "Dad!" I growled in annoyance and turned on my heel, only to walk straight into someone. Someone who had pale skin peppered with freckles, and dark curly hair that sprung in tiny ringlets around her face. Someone whose eyes sparkled more than her 'J' necklace. Someone who set my heart singing.

"Hi," I squeaked nervously.

"Hi," replied Juliet.


	12. At the Diner

**A/N On its way to being finished now, this fic! Just to tell you that I have a forum where you can all get involved - **

**Simon Says:It's Award Time. There you can nominate your favourite authors, reviewers, and several different types of fics. I hope you can get involved!**

**Chapter Twelve**

I guess we stood looking at each other for a long time. I could almost see the wheels of her mind turning, contemplating bringing up the event that had changed the course of history. Not that she knew that, of course.

"Hi," I said again, eventually. She shot me a confused look, which I guess I kind of earned. I cleared my throat nervously, and took in her entire apparell. She was unfailingly pretty, her pale skin contrasting with her deep green sweater set. And obviously, her diamante 'J' necklace.

"Romeo," she whispered, and just her voice speaking my name made my heart lurch. Man, I was pathetic. She took hold of my hand, and my heart began pounding against my ribcage. "I'm really sorry for what happened to your Dad."

"You were there," I replied, my voice sounding like I had a dry pill stuck to the inside of my throat. "You saw what I did to him. Yet you're holding my hand." Juliet squeezed my fingers, for emphasis.

"I don't care," she answered, firmly. "You saved my life - your father was going to kill me. I owe you everything."

I shook my head in frustration. "You don't owe me anything," I argued. "You shouldn't have had to put up with the pressures of being a mediator - it's your gift, not a curse. You should enjoy it." On the word 'mediator', Juliet gasped.

"You - you know?" she asked, her cheeks flushed with excitement. "You're a mediator too?" She smiled incredulously. "Well of course, I mean, you're Paul Slater's son."

"I'm a mediator too," I confirmed it. "And that's how I knew you were going to die - I'd seen the reality that came from your death. And I couldn't let it happen." She seemed a little stunned by my revelation, and I realised I'd gotten a little too carried away. I shook my head, and tried again. "Do you...Juliet, do you want to go and get some pizza or something?"

She actually turned around to see if there was another Juliet behind her. I laughed, and tugged her along by her hand. We walked through the neighbourhood silently hand-in-hand. The silence was comfortable.

Juliet giggled to herself, and then voiced her thoughts. "Can I ask you a question, Romeo?" Her face was so earnest, I couldn't have declined it. I nodded eagerly, and she continued. "What are you doing, holding my hand and taking me out for pizza? What happened to Chanel?" I chewed my lip.

"Juliet," I said, patiently. "I know you see me as just a superficial jock, who only cares about MVP awards and cheerleaders. But I don't. Y - something - changed my life. And I'm not like that anymore. I'm a person, I have feelings. And I want to change the way things work."

Juliet considered this. "I guess that's pretty great," she replied. "I just can't help feeling its just some kind of prank. I mean-" She blushed. "I feel like I've done this before - been out with you, I mean - but I know I haven't. It's just like we have this..." She trailed off, embarrassed.

"Connection," I finished for her. "It's no joke, Juliet. I really do like you. You're smart, you're beautiful, you're passionate..." I thought quickly of Dr. De Silva. "But man, your dad is scary."

Juliet giggled again, her laughter ringing through the air like wind-chimes. It sent a pleasant shiver up my back. "I guess he is," she said. "Not to the children he treats, though. He's the best doctor in town."

"Oh, I know," I agreed. Suddenly I was consumed with visions of various vaccacinations, and the lollipops Dr. De Silva would present me with afterwards. Good old Jesse. "He's the best. He just seems to have this strange prejudice against me."

"I'm sure it's not intentional," Juliet insisted good-naturedly. "I just know that your dad and mine didn't really get along that well in school. They were, um, kind of love rivals."

"Yeah, I know." I looked at Juliet meaningfully. "For the pretty girl." She smiled sadly.

"In a way, I envy my mom," she said. "I mean, she had so much attention from boys in school. She just says I'm a late bloomer, but I know I'm just going to be one of those girls in the corner." I disagreed immediately.

"Juliet," I argued passionately. "You are not just some girl in the corner." She looked a little taken aback. "You shouldn't be, anyway. It's not fair that the superficial cheerleaders get all the attention." Juliet shrugged.

"Whatever," she replied. "They are beautiful."

I was just about to add 'layers of make-up doesn't make you beautiful' when I realised that we had reached the diner, and therefore the end of our heated discussion. I didn't want to argue with Juliet over our food. This was my chance to win her heart.

"A table for two, please," I said to the waitress, who nodded eagerly and seized menus and led us to a corner table. I allowed Juliet to sit down before me, and then took the menus with a feeble smile. The waitress remained hovering.

"Can I get you two a drink?" she asked. I looked at Juliet.

"Um," she said. "A Diet Coke?"

"Make that two," I replied, and she nodded, skittering away in her high heels. I turned to Juliet, who was studying the menu thoughtfully. "I like the margherita," I said, to the break the ice. She nodded.

"Yeah," she agreed. "With pepperoni." We ordered our pizzas, and waited patiently, not needing to talk. My leg brushed up against hers as I reached for a napkin, and the two of us shivered at the contact. My hand lurched in panic and spilt her diet coke all over her. She squealed and fingered her soaked clothes in surprise. My eyes widened.

"I'm so sorry..." I began warbling, mortified. "Hear, lets get you cleaned up..." I dabbed at her with a napkin, and she shook her head.

"It's fine, it's fine..." she replied, but I was already standing up.

"Let's take you home," I said, helping her up. "No - my place is closer. I'll take you back to my place - hey you can meet my mom!"

She giggled nervously as we ran through the restaurant, and we passed the waitress hurriedly as she returned with our pizzas. "Where y'all going?"

"I left a tip!" I yelled back, and we ran out of the diner. I seized Juliet's hand and pulled her in the direction of my house, still completely embarrassed at what I had done. "This way..."

"Romeo," Juliet breathed, as we walked quickly back to my house. I guess I kind of forget that Juliet wasn't a jock - she didn't work out everyday like Chanel did. I slowed down a little, and allowed her to catch her breath. "It's fine, seriously. I'll just go home and change - you don't need to take me back home."

"Yes I do," I replied. "I want you to meet my mom."

"But-" Juliet began to argue, but I grinned, and pointed.

"Too late," I interrupted. "We're here. You first." I followed her up the steps to my house, and leant over her shoulder to shove my keys into the lock. I ushered her inside, and shut the door. A radio blared from the kitchen, and my mom appeared worriedly in the hallway.

"Romeo?" she asked, and to my horror, she swooped down and kissed me. "Honey, you were gone so long! I was so worried!" I shoved her off, and instead introduced her to Juliet, who stood waiting patiently.

"Mom," I said meaningfully. "This is Juliet." I swallowed. "De Silva." My mom's face lit up immediately.

"You're Jesse De Silva's daughter? No wonder you're so pretty!" I pressed a hand to my forehead in frustration. "But honey, you're soaking wet."

"That's why we're here," I explained. "I spilt Coke all over her, and I need to get her clean clothes. Can she borrow some of yours?" She nodded, and I led Juliet upstairs. "There's some in the closet!"

I opened the closet door. "Take your pick," I offered. Juliet stared at the many designer labels hanging up there. She took a powder blue roll-neck, and some jeans, timidly. Then turned to look at me.

"Where can I change?" she asked. I showed her into my mom's room, and she closed the door shyly. "I'll be two seconds," she said. I nodded, and wandered downstairs to find my mom. She was waiting impatiently in the kitchen, tapping her foot.

"Romeo, are you messing with Juliet?" she demanded. "She's a sweet girl, she needs none of your tricks." I tried to work out what my mother was saying. I knew that she hadn't liked Chanel, occasionally referring to her as "that girl", and often as "Promiscuous", but I hadn't really thought that's what she thought about me. At least, until now.

"Mom," I said, firmly. "I really like Juliet. I'm finished with people like Chanel, I swear. I don't think I've ever felt this way before." My mom looked sternly at me.

"If I found out you've broken her heart, ever-" She jabbed a finger in my direction. "-You'll be grounded. God knows the world needs more people like Juliet." I nodded, and swiftly made my way upstairs. Geesh. It was like once you had gone over to the dark side, you weren't expected to come back.

"Romeo?" Juliet called, as I made my way upstairs. "Where are you?"

"I'm here," I answered, and found her standing in my doorway questioningly. She looked gorgeous - the baby blue accenting her green eyes and dark hair.

"How do I look?" she asked, and she gave a twirl. I couldn't stop myself answering truthfully.

"You look beautiful, Juliet," I answered. "You're the most beautiful girl in the world."

I shouldn't have said that, I thought, remembering my dad's warning. Now she'll be freaked and she'll run away, never wanting to talk to me...

Aw, screw it.

I took hold of her in my arms and kissed her firmly on the lips.


	13. After the Kiss

**I'm quite pleased with this chapter. At first, it was barely 500 words, but now its over 1600. Yay! Happy New Year to everyone, to those who have had 2008 for a while, to those who have had it for two hours (like me) and to those who are still waiting.**

**Chapter Thirteen**

Her lips froze against mine and I instantly regretted what I had done. We broke apart slowly, and she brought a finger to her bottom lip thoughtfully. I ran a hand through my hair and turned my back, embarrassed.

"I'm sorry," I said, still not brave enough to face her. "It's not your fault that my love for you in unrequited." I felt a hand on my shoulder. I spun around and Juliet surprised me with another kiss, deep and meaningful. We broke apart, this time neither of us backing away.

"I have no idea what I'm doing," she breathed. She felt for the bottom of my shirt. "But I do know that we have a connection that I don't want you to share with anyone else." She blushed. "I don't think I've ever done anything like this before." I felt her cool hands press against my bare stomach, and took a sharp breath.

"Juliet," I said, clasping her hands with my own. "I don't want this to be like any other relationship I've ever had. I want this to be the one I remember forever." I corrected myself. "I want this to be the one that lasts forever." Juliet stretched a hand around my neck, and brought me down to kiss her again. She smiled against my lips.

"What makes you think that it won't last forever?" she asked, and we moved towards my room, our bodies still pressed together. "Are you still having thoughts about Chanel?" She giggled. "Possibly Verity?" I pulled a face, and then grinned at this new side of Juliet. I'd never seen her teasing before.

"Juliet," I replied, as we reached my doorway. "I really don't think that this is a good idea." She had now started to work on the buttons of my shirt, and looked amused as I said this.

"Why?" she demanded, absent-mindedly. "Because I'm Dr. De Silva's daughter - your friendly neighbourhood goody-goody? I'm more than just a smiling face and a former girl-scout, Romeo." All my shirt buttons were undone.

"I know that," I said. "I know that you're kind, and you're caring. I know that you have a sense of humour..." I trailed off interestedly. "You were a girl scout?" I suddenly was greeted with visions of Juliet in a girl scout uniform.

"The very best," she answered. "Sold the most cookies in girl-scout history." I ran a hand up her back, refusing to remove any of the clothes that she had only just put on.

"Now you're just lying to me," I decided, sternly. "You cannot be the best at everything, Juliet De Silva." She peeled my shirt from me, dropping it at the end of my bed. I heard a glass being put down, downstairs in the kitchen. And I suddenly realised that my mom was still in the house.

"I'm not the best at everything," Juliet corrected me. "Have you seen me playing sports? Even Verity Mancuso can get higher up that rope than I can. And she's a wimpy cheerleader." I considered this, whilst Juliet kissed my collarbone. I wasn't used to the way she was treating me - being far more forward than even I had been when we were ... doing whatever we were doing when she was a ghost. I didn't say I disliked it. I just wasn't used to it.

"Maybe you have me there," I said truthfully. She was slowly wearing me down. Her cold fingers were sharp against my hot skin, sending tingles up my spine. I wasn't sure how much longer I could last.

"I will always win, Romeo Slater," Juliet whispered, running a finger down my chin. "Just admit defeat now, and you'll be O.K."

"Why are you acting like this?" I asked, interested. "You've never been like this before. Not," I added. "That I don't like it." Juliet smiled flirtatiously.

"I've just decided that I don't want to lose you," she replied, truthfully. "To Chanel, or to anyone. I feel like maybe we've had this before..." She really had no idea. "And I like it."

"Well," I said, dipping her into a dramatic kiss. "I like it too." And then, with that, I knew that I couldn't last any longer. We fell backwards onto my bed and I pressed my lips against her neck, searching quickly for a way to get this damn roll-neck off...

"Romeo?"

I froze. It was my mother who had been calling my name, and she sounded close. I was off the bed like a shot, my heart hammering fast. That was a close one - and it looked like couple time was over for now between Juliet and I.

Crap.

* * *

"Dude," Mark said, nudging his soda can with mine in the cafeteria the next day. "Are you O.K? Or are you like, high or something?" I saw Chanel catch these words, and send a suspicious look my way. I shook my head immediately, drinking out of my soda can quickly. The truth was, I was just thinking of Juliet. Who I hadn't been able to catch a glimpse of all day.

"I'm fine," I assured Mark. "Really. I'm fine. I guess I'm just a little tired." Mark rolled his eyes, and elbowed the guy next to him - a soccer player that I was always forgetting the name of.

"Yeah," he muttered, but loud enough for me to hear. "He was probably kept up all night with Chanel. I hear she can go for hours." Chanel's eyes glinted at this remark, and she cast a smile in my direction. I didn't return it.

"Actually," I declared, a little louder, so that I could be sure all our lunch table could hear it. And probably most of the cafeteria, too. "I'm not with Chanel anymore." Two soda cans - those belonging to Chanel and Verity - dropped onto the table and fizzed furiously. "I think I'm kind of interested in someone else."

"What?" That reply came from most of my fellow peers. I was faced with about fifteen wide eyes, and the cafeteria was kind of quiet too. At least until Juliet walked in, with Abbey at her side. Chanel's gaze of astonishment then turned to one of scorn as the two girls walked past her.

"Well, if it isn't Juliet De Silva," Chanel said, her tone laced with venom. "Did you have to go looking through the trash cans to put an outfit together, again? It's such a shame that Dr. Daddy won't buy you new things. Your skank-assed Mom has probably spent all his money." Even Verity was shocked by the string of insults. Everyone in the cafeteria was either exchanging surprised glances with each other, or staring at Chanel. Juliet was invisible - everybody knew that. She hadn't done anything ever to Chanel, why was Chanel suddenly so poisonous.

"What I want to know," Chanel continued conversationally, like every syllable wasn't a painful sting for Juliet. "Is why your dad has stayed with her all these years. You know-" She looked at Verity. "It's probably something to do with all that time spent with Father Dominic - they probably connocted some stupid voodoo thing." She laughed humourlessly. "Unless you weren't Jesse De Silva's kid after all..." Verity raised an eyebrow at this remark. "Ew, a priest's daughter. That makes you even more of a nark than usual."

"Have I ever..." Juliet hesitated. "...'narked' on you before, Chanel?" Her tone was pleasant, though I knew she was nervous. "I think not. What have you got to be spiteful for?" Chanel wasn't deterred, but I stepped in.

"I think you had better leave Juliet alone, Chanel." I stood in front of Juliet, almost shielding her from any more cutting remarks. There were already tears in her eyes. "She doesn't need any more crap from you." The whole cafeteria was now silent.

"What was that even about, Chan?" Verity whispered, hurriedly. "I mean, God, she's a dork. But that's about it. It's not like she busted you for drugs or anything." Chanel continued to glare in Juliet's direction, and Verity caught on, widening her kohl-rimmed eyes. "O-M-G. You're not actually jealous of the De Silva chick, are you? I mean, there's nothing to be jealous of, obviously..."

"Haven't you seen it?" Chanel wheeled around to accuse Verity, and I clasped Juliet's fingers quickly. "The way he's been looking at her recently? It's like he's in love with her. He's in love with a whore-faced, swotting nark." She thrust a finger at Juliet.

"No," I spoke bravely. "That would be you, Chanel." A whisper of appreciation rustled through the silent cafeteria. Chanel squeezed her soda can in one hand angrily. I turned to Verity. "You're wrong," I said. "There is something to be jealous of. Juliet here-" I raised our linked hands. "-She's with me." I gave her a little tug, before stopping in front of Chanel, who was a little stunned.

"You have something on your shirt," I told her. She didn't look down.

"Where?" she asked instead. I tipped her can so that it's contents emptied onto her chest, and gestured towards it.

"There." And then I pulled Juliet out of the cafeteria, which began to buzz again with interest. I wasn't looking back, I knew what was there. What I was really interested in was what I was taking with me.

My life with Juliet.


	14. Happily Ever After

**My dearies, the end is not near, it's here! Apologies to Lolly (if you care) - you just started reading and now it's over! Still, plenty of Millie fics still unfinished for you to read muhahaha...**

**Is anyone else excited about the cast for Twilight? No?**

**Read and review!**

**Chapter Fourteen**

"Are you O.K now?" I asked, concernedly, craning my neck to try and look at Juliet's face as she removed it from between her knees. "Do you want any water?" I unscrewed the cap from the bottle I held in my hand and gave it to her. She took it gratefully.

"I'm fine," she answered, taking a sip. "You know, just a little woozy. For a while back there I thought you actually dissed Chanel Prescott in favour of me." She waved a dismissive hand. "I'll be alright again in a minute."

I grinned. "Juliet," I said, softly, and she looked up from where she had been staring into the water bottle. "I really did..." I grinned at her phrasing. "...'diss' Chanel back there. Of course I did. Would I ever side with her over you?" She raised an eyebrow.

"You used to," she replied, and I cringed at the memory of my previous behaviour. I fell to my knees in front of her, and took her fingers, which I kissed.

"Juliet," I said again. "You know I'm different to the person I used to be. And you know that's all because of you." She squeezed the hand that I still gripped her fingers with.

"Because of me?" she echoed. I nodded, and sat beside her, kissing her head.

"Of course," I replied. "I'm in love with you, Juliet." Her eyes widened a little at the blunt delivery, but I moved in quick for a kiss, covering her startled pink lips with my own. She placed a hand on my neck, pulling me closer, before breaking us apart again.

"I love you, too." She smiled, and ran a cool finger down my neck. "It's strange, isnt it? I mean, my feelings for you are so strong already, but it's like I've known for you so long." I nodded, capturing her lips in a kiss again.

"I feel the same way," I replied, deciding against telling her the truth. "Do you feel better now?" She chewed her lip playfully, before pulling me back to her and kissing me again.

"I think I'll be O.K if you keep kissing me," she said, and I happily obliged.

**Epilogue - Ten Years Later**

"Daddy?" A meek voice came from the bedroom as I passed it on my way to the kitchen. I jumped - it was late at night, and I assumed everybody but me was asleep. I leaned back to look into my children's bedroom, to see my daughter sitting upright in her bed, watching me worriedly.

"Ellie?" I asked quietly, creeping in slowly so as not to wake her baby brother, who lay in a crib beside her bed, snoring gently. "Why are you still awake?" I glanced at the clock at her bedside. "It's three o'clock in the morning!"

She looked down sadly. "I can't get to sleep," she whispered mournfully. "I woke up because I heard Paul coughing, and then I couldn't settle again." She tossed a look at the baby worriedly.

"He's fine," I assured her, and I turned my attention back to her. "Have you tried counting sheep? Counting to a hundred? A thousand?" She nodded, and before burying her head into the crook of my arm. I stroked her dark curls - a trait she inherited from her mother, of course - but couldn't help laughing. She sat up again immediately after hearing my chuckle, and looked indignant.

"It's not funny, Daddy!"

I became solemn for her benefit. "Of course not," I said. "Would you like a story, maybe?" She agreed eagerly, and so I tucked in her into bed probably and knelt by her side, waiting for her to settle properly.

"Once upon a time," I began, as all good story-tellers do. "There lived a boy, and his father. His father was, at a first glance, a cruel man. He was mean to his son, and to his wife, and as a result, his son was mean to the children at his school." Ellie blinked.

"I don't like this boy," she said, firmly. "Tell another story, Daddy." I shook my head.

"Stay with it, Ellie." She wriggled further down beneath the covers. "He had a girlfriend - the most popular girl in school - but he did not love her. He was with her because she made life easier for him - and other people liked him for it." Ellie yawned out of boredom.

"But then one day, the boy met another girl - a prettier girl, a nicer girl. They fell in love, and the boy began to change. He was nicer to everybody, and he realised what he really wanted out of life. But there was just one problem." Ellie was suddenly absorbed in the tale.

"What?" she asked desperately.

"The girl was a ghost," I replied, seriously. "And so she could not marry the boy. Nobody else could see her - and nobody would believe him that she was there." I smiled slightly at the memory of this. "So, because of his love for this girl, the boy went back in time using a ... time machine-" I grimaced at this embroidery. "-and changed history, so that the girl did not die." Ellie looked amazed.

"A time machine?" she repeated incredulously. I nodded.

"But in doing this, he had to sacrifice his father's life - his mean, cruel father," I continued. "But his father agreed to this, finally acting nice to his son that his son could be happy." Ellie smiled, finally looking sleepy. "The girl - now alive again - did not remember the times she spent with the boy, and so he had to make her fall in love with him all over again..." I glanced at my daughter, who was now well and truly asleep, before whispering the final line.

"And they lived Happily Ever After." I kissed the top of her head, before leaning over the bars of the crib to check on baby Paul - named after my father, of course - and then made my way out. Juliet was waiting in the doorway. She had evidently been listening to the story.

She grinned, and kissed me. "Where did you get that story?" she asked. "If I knew any better, I'd say you made that up yourself." I kissed her again in the doorway, reliving in an instant the whole of the story - and almost losing her.

"You know what?" I asked, as we walked back to the bedroom. "I think I just read it somewhere. It was kind of a good story though, don't you think?"


End file.
